[ If you haven't seen his thin, evil-laden, leather-clad self lately, that's probably for good reason. He's become more anti-social than usual. In fact, he's all but vanished for some time. The only people he's seen on a regular basis are his students--and perhaps a small, black-haired voodoo-toying child.
Megamind may have slipped back into post-
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Except there had been a certain lack of…something in her life, and she finds herself desperately craving old interactions from home, more now than ever.
Specifically, those with him.
She’s not sure how she found herself in the doorway of his classroom, leaning against the wood, ankles crossed and a wry smile twisting its way onto her lips as the chalk rolls to a stop by her feet. Leaning, she picks it up.]
Will apple turnovers do?
[She held up a brown paper bag and shook it gently at him. Just the sight of him was…anchoring.
That was confusing.]
And coffee, if you’ve a want for that, too. [In the same red mug she’d brought him before, the one emblazoned with her old logo, KMCP8. She doesn’t wait for an invitation, ( ... )
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Maybe she'd been reading it wrong.
She didn't think so, but there is always the possibility that her assumptions were going to get her into trouble. It would not be the first time that has happened to her before.
She kept her confidence. She doesn't think she's wrong about this.
Pulling his hand away from the chalkboard, she forced him to turn, face her.]
Yes. Going on. What is it?
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